


Ink me up (Tattoos for two please!)

by beomgyuniverse (ggukgiis)



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Adorable Choi Soobin, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Sports, Choi Soobin Is Bad At Feelings, Choi Yeonjun Is Bad At Feelings, Cliche, Confused Choi Yeonjun, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Prom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggukgiis/pseuds/beomgyuniverse
Summary: “Maybe we can—”“If I hear another stupid idea from those lips of yours, I’m gonna have to shut you up myself.”Choi Yeonjun, the captain of the swimming team absolutely despised Choi Soobin, the student council president. Everyone knew this –it was painstakingly obvious. That’s exactly the reason why the whole school is left dumbstruck when Yeonjun attends a swimming meet with the words “Binbin’s Little Devil” permanently inked on his bicep.OrThe cliché sports anime-esque yeonbin au that literally nobody asked for.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 165





	1. Don't miss me too much!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night drives calmed Yeonjun down. But not when he's in the middle of an unknown neighborhood with Choi Soobin in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO this is my first ever au on ao3 and im very scared rn LDJSLFJS but otherwise very excited i hope you like the first chapter and here's cliche high school yeonbin 🥺🥺🥺🥺♥️♥️♥️

“You know, staring at Choi Soobin like he’s the last slice of pizza won’t make him disappear into thin air if that’s what you’re trying to achieve here.”

“Shut up.” Yeonjun murmurs, snapping out of his momentary trance and feigning ignorance as his best friend (he had no idea how or why) Kang Taehyun shot him an ever so taunting glance. Yeonjun resisted the urge to shove his chopsticks down the younger’s throat. Fucking know it all.

“Mhm.” Taehyun only hummed, only making the blue haired boy scoff as he tried to look for any other thing to offer his attention to, anything other than Choi Soobin who was now laughing brightly with his student council clique, two tables away. The boy’s airy laughter had never failed to leave an impression on Yeonjun, haunting his mind over and over. He felt helpless and honest to God –he hated it.

_Oh_ he never liked the school’s golden boy, Choi Soobin. Student council President and one of the hand-picked scholars despite his parents having enough dough to actually _buy_ the school. His trimmed hair and neat uniform making him look _oh so gorgeously_ respectful. Kid had looks, high grades, and a stable social life. Utter perfection that irks Yeonjun to his core. 

Surely the boy isn’t as flawless as he presents himself.

“So, your swimming meet is coming up next month!” Yeonjun’s gaze shifts onto his friend who was now checking his pocket for a few mint candies, wordlessly offering him one. Yeonjun simply shook his head no. “You excited?”

“Peachy.” 

“Of course you are.”

“I’m serious!” Yeonjun pressed, letting out a small chuckle as his friend continued to fiddle with opening the packet. “I mean _yeah_ it’s one of the most important games of my whole career as a swimmer—”

“Jjuni.” Taehyun stopped, sending the other a glare that Yeonjun could only paint as disbelief, “this _important game_ will determine whether or not you’re qualified for the national team. _All_ the spectators and officials will be right there eyeing your every move? Dude, you might even get scouted for advertisements and all that stuff! Important is an understatement!”

“Exactly the reason why I don’t give a crap. I swim for myself. I swim because it makes me feel happy. I honestly don’t care if I make it to the national team –as long as I can still swim afterwards.” Yeonjun answered solemnly, deciding to revert his attention to what his friend was doing.

Taehyun finally opened the packet of mints and grabbed his unopened bottle of Coke, shaking it vigorously. The boy gave him another look, judgmental and visibly seething –a look that the other was already used to after six years of receiving it.

“If I had your talent then I would’ve already won the Olympics by now! Hell, I would be a superstar! You know? You’re one of the dumbest people I know. Like –if there was a daily ranking you’d be part of the Top 3.” He rambled on, quickly opening the can and inserting the mint candies inside it, foam shooting out of the container and spilling onto the floor. Taehyun giggles, standing up from his seat. Yeonjun didn’t even question what the younger was doing, he just grinned, observing how the carbon bubbles pop instantaneously as it met the tiled floor. Mr. Hwang, the school janitor, would definitely call them out for the mess, but did they care? Not really.

He can feel numerous eyes linger on them, well –Yeonjun in particular. _What was the biggest rising athlete in their school doing hanging out with a weird art geek?_ He knew what was going on inside these students’ heads but he chose not to dwell on it. He would never get that in the way of him hanging out with Taehyun.

A playful grin remains plastered on Yeonjun’s lips. “Next to you, you mean?”

Taehyun snorts. “Oh fuck off!”

-

“So you’re meaning to tell me that you’re _not_ going to Ryujin’s party this Friday? The party of the century? Are you feeling well, Mr. President?”

Soobin sighed, trying not to roll his eyes at how overly dramatic Beomgyu was being. He tightened his grip on his pen and continued to rewrite his notes. Chemistry wasn’t something Soobin struggled with, but his professor told them to quote unquote _‘stop tikity-toking and start using their tick-tock time’_ and required them to pass clean and summarized notes. Soobin didn’t really mind, but he wasn’t over the moon that he had to spend a few extra hours in the library for it either.

“I just need to finish up all our homework and assignments. Not to mention we need to rearrange the files for the end of the year par—”

“But it’s the party of the century?!” Beomgyu whisper-shouts, earning a few undignified glares from other students who were actually studying (unlike one blond haired boy).

“Gyu, I don’t care.”

“But I don’t wanna go alone!”

“So you just want me to go because you want a sidekick? Is that it?” Soobin muses, uncapping his pink highlighter and drawing a few cursive lines here and there. 

Beomgyu scoffs and rolls his eyes, visibly unhappy as he sags on his chair and rests his head on the table. “If anything, I would be _your_ sidekick.”

Soobin only hummed in agreement, closing his notebook and packing his things. His eyes caught sight of the library’s wall clock as he realized it was already 5 pm –he needed to get home or else he’ll never hear the end of it from his parents.

The blonde visibly brightens as he sees the other finish up, maybe a little _too_ excited that they were finally leaving the library after two hours. “Oh c’mon! I’ll be your best friend!” Beomgyu convinces, following after Soobin who was now headed for the door. The boy smiled, sending a nod of gratitude towards the school librarian by the counter, and pushed the door open.

“You already are my best friend and look where it brought me now. One of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

“Hey! That’s awfully mean of you!”

“I’m only being honest!” Soobin chuckled, opening his locker and neatly placing his books on the shelves. He heard Beomgyu grunt, and as he turned to face the younger, he was met with the boy’s unsatisfied pout. Something that no mortal can ever resist.

Soobin was fucked.

“Oh no no no no no –don’t you DARE pull the pouty baby Beommie on me! I’ve been immune to that a long time ago, Sir.”

Beomgyu pouts harder, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks. 

“Beomgyu. No is no.”

The blonde holds his breath, neck turning red, and Soobin sighs, defeated. This tantrum-like phenomena is Beomgyu’s final stage and step to get what he wants. He would hold his breath until the person agrees to his desires, he never falters. He even went to the hospital once because his teacher refused to give him an A+ on their medieval research assignment (he did a skit about goats which was apparently _not considered as research_ ).

“Fine.”

Sunshine spreads across the blonde’s face as he squealed, getting on his tippy toes to hug the taller. “Yay! It’s going to be so much fun!”

“Yeah sure whatever. But I swear to fucking God Gyu if I don’t get to do my requirements because of this—”

Beomgyu laughs as if he heard the funniest joke ever, his whole body doubling up in laughter. “Oh Binnie, as if you would fail any subject ever? Everyone in this school adores you! Why don’t you learn to take advantage of that fame, yeah?”

Soobin frowns, Beomgyu’s words leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “But I don’t want to.”

“Oh honey,” Beomgyu coos, patting Soobin’s head, “There will come a time where you _will._ ”

\- 

“You’ve _got_ to be fucking kidding me!”

Yeonjun was never fond of cursing, but at the situation he was in now, that was the only he thought appropriate to do.

After three hours of intensive training and half an hour of his coach yelling at him for not pushing himself to his limit, Yeonjun decided to take the long way home for some peace and quiet. Some time to blow off some steam after being _soaked_ in overly chlorinated water, if you will. 

He knew he needed some time to think, to relax himself and what better way than to drive off freely on his motorbike for forty minutes? The boy had done this before, finding solace in the crisp night air and slight rustle of the trees littered along their village. What Yeonjun didn’t realize was that his bike was low on gas, and he only found out when the sound of its engine died down, slow and steady.

“Fucking hell.”

Yeonjun looked around, trying to take in his surroundings as he haphazardly unclasped his helmet and angrily threw it on the ground. He noticed that he was at the safe parts of town –the areas where rich slobs probably waste their time and money in. Pristinely clean streets, lights that actually work aligned by the sidewalks –mansion after mansion stretching for a few more blocks. There goes Yeonjun’s hope for finding help –he prided himself too much to come and knock the doors of these people. His phone was dead and he was a few miles away from the closest gas station. 

_Great._

The boy heaved a long sigh, picking up his momentarily forgotten helmet and kicking his motorbike’s stand, deciding to push his motorbike and walk. But before he can even grip onto the handles, he freezes as he hears an overly familiar voice follow his direction.

“Choi Yeonjun-ssi?”

Yeonjun gritted his teeth. _Fucking fantastic._

Oh no he did not need this right now. So the boy chose to ignore the footsteps that drew closer and merely tightened his grip on his bike, walking faster all while pushing the heavy thing. But he stops as he feels a hand touch his shoulder. It was a small gesture but it sends Yeonjun’s eyes widening, making him stop in his footsteps as he tried not to let his annoyance show on his face.

Of course Choi Soobin lived at these parts.

“Choi Yeonjun-ssi! The swimmer, right? Fancy seeing you here,” the boy started, reveling a mild sense of warmth that didn’t sit well in Yeonjun’s stomach, “what’re you up to this late?”

It took a moment for Yeonjun to answer, the older’s mind wandering off to how Soobin’s hand was still resting on his shoulder as if they were _close_. The blue haired boy slapped away Soobin’s hand, an action that made the other boy’s grin go dimmer. “Late night drive.” Yeonjun answered swiftly, turning away and continuing to push his bike.

“O-Oh” Soobin stops to think ,“–well shouldn’t you be _driving_ to do that?” Soobin finally asks, and he can imagine the sly smile creeping up on the golden boy’s face as he did.

Oh what a smartass.

“Shouldn’t you be minding your own damn business?” Yeonjun snaps, making the younger flinch in surprise. Yeonjun scoffs internally.

He did not want to bask in golden boy’s beloved presence. He wasn’t like those other kids who would die and offer their lives just to get even an ounce of attention from _the_ Choi Soobin. He just wanted him to leave. Wasn’t Yeonjun sending enough signals?

Shaking his head, Soobin still followed, hands on his pockets as he _skipped_ (imagine a fucking six foot tall teenager _skipping_ ) next to Yeonjun, eyeing the older who’s breath was getting a little uneven because of the weight of the bike. Soobin’s eyes light up in realization.

“If you want then I can bring you to the gas station? So you can –um –buy gas? I can drop you off with my car.”

“No thanks. I’ll get there fine.”

Soobin frowns, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “But it’s almost 10pm. The gas station is two miles away.”

“I’m aware.”

“But—”

“Do me a favor and leave me be, Golden Boy.” Yeonjun sneers, “No one’s looking so you can drop the act already. You don’t need to help me. _Hell_ –you don’t have to act like you know me –just scurry on home and pretend this didn’t happen won’t you?”

Soobin fell silent, hands falling limply by his sides as he stared up at Yeonjun with an unreadable expression written on his delicate features. Yeonjun’s heart drops a little at the sight. 

The boy nods, walking away from Yeonjun who was now staring intently on his retreating persona. He figured the boy would shut up any moment –but he didn’t know why his chest felt a tiny bit heavier as he continued to stroll down the silent street, gripping on his motorbike’s handles. He pushes aside the disappointment aching his chest ever so slightly as he takes each step. Of course Soobin would give up if he just went straight to the point.

Of course the Golden Boy Choi Soobin would be the type to give up easily.

A haunting screech then filled Yeonjun’s ears. He blinked. Once. Twice. Yeonjun’s eyes widened as a black Chevrolet haphazardly pulled up in front of him, nearly crashing with his motorbike by a fucking _inch_ , blocking the street and taking the blue haired boy off guard.

There he was. Choi Soobin inside the damn car that probably costs more than Yeonjun’s _life_. Looking arrogant as ever –one hand on the stirring wheel, the other hanging from the open window. It seemed off-character, definitely unfitting for the fluffy white sweater the boy was wearing –and definitely not the golden boy he was familiar with.

“Just get on the fucking car Choi. Your pride isn’t going to take you anywhere.”

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. Judging by the cocky smirk playing on the younger’s lips –Yeonjun deemed himself incorrect. Soobin wasn’t the type to give up _that_ easily.

“Fine.”

-

“I’ll just check the store for a sec!” 

Yeonjun nodded silently as he opened the car’s door and slipped onto the backseat. His gaze followed Soobin as the boy skipped towards the small, dimly lit 7/11 store near the gasoline station. He fiddled with his varsity jacket, repeatedly pulling on its zipper as he nibbled thoughtfully on his nails. A split second thought of leaving the younger and driving off into the sunset with his black Chevrolet crossed Yeonjun’s mind, but he immediately dismissed it—he didn’t plan on being a felon, let alone a felon that left Choi Soobin alone in the middle of nowhere.

_Why was Choi Soobin being so nice to him?_

It didn’t make sense. Well –okay _maybe_ Yeonjun’s obvious disliking towards the boy has led him to believe in certain things and _maybe_ Yeonjun was still in denial that the pretty pristine Golden Boy was actually as perfect as people behold him to be and _maybe_ Yeonjun was just being an unreasonable douche but—

“Hi! I’m back! Hope you didn’t miss me too much.” Soobin chirps, sending Yeonjun a flirtatious wink as he sat comfortably behind the stirring wheel, searching inside the paper bag he brought.

Yeonjun blinks.

“You do not know how to wink.”

Soobin stops, eyes gaping at the other boy, looking completely scandalized. “I do too! You take that back!”

The older boy’s eyes land on Soobin’s hands which were clutching onto two Slurpee cups. Yeonjun raises an eyebrow and asks, “What do you have over there?”

This deemed effective in distracting the boy from their previous conversation, Soobin’s lips opening and closing for a few seconds before muttering “Slushies.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t know which flavor you liked so I just kinda guessed. Pick anything you like, I don’t care.”

Instead of being a tad bit annoyed (because why the fuck is this kid so nice to him), Yeonjun furrows his eyebrows, peering over the two cups and reaching for the red one. He can hear Soobin hold his breath, and when he looks up, the younger was pouting adorably, eyes dead set on the red cup.

Yeonjun hesitates, his eyes widening at how… _cute_ Soobin was acting, and it didn’t settle well with his stomach. He grunts, quickly swiping the blue drink away from the other’s hand as he mumbles a small “ _Unbelieveable._ ”

The older tries not to comment on how Soobin’s eyes light up and crinkle into crescents when he holds onto the red cup closer to his chest, and how his lips curve into a happy grin and how he’s bouncing excitedly onto his seat and what the _fuck_ Yeonjun couldn’t look away. Soobin has this strong magnetic force surrounding him—and Yeonjun had no idea if he was irritated or endeared at how comfortable he is sitting silently next to the boy. 

“Why pick blueberry and strawberry?”

Soobin shrugs, playing with his straw before facing Yeonjun, “Because red and blue make purple I guess.”

Yeonjun’ chokes. “Excuse me?”

“Red and blue make purple!”

The older just stares at Soobin, waiting for the boy to realize what his statement meant. And after a few more confused glances, Soobin’s expression changes to that of realization, then into a shade of deep, red embarrassment.

“W-Wait I didn’t—NO! I didn’t mean to like kiss and mix the colors with our faces OHMYGOD I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT TO SOUND LIKE I WANTED TO MAKE OUT WITH YOU—WE, WE’RE NOT—I DIDN’T MEAN—oh my god I don’t wanna make out I swear on my life I just chose them because they looked pretty and – _fuck_ I promise I—shit .”

Seeing Soobin cover his face, attempt to hide his red ears, and repeatedly bang his head against the steering wheel, made Yeonjun feel light. The boy chuckled, taking a long sip of his Slurpee and looking out the window.

“That’s a shame.”

-

“What? No thank you?”

“Didn’t ask for your help in the first place.” Yeonjun mumbled, putting on his helmet and revving up his motorcycle. The sound echoed along the empty streets, and that’s the only factor that made him realize how late it was.

Soobin scoffs, and Yeonjun can see him cross his arms from the corner of his peripheral vision. “I mean –some common decency wouldn’t sound so bad would it?”

“Not a fan of that, sorry.”

“Oh c’mon! Not even a pat on the back? A handshake? A _good job buck-o?_ ”

“Not happening.” Yeonjun answers, finally turning his full attention to Soobin who was trying to look mad (read: frowning like a kicked puppy). 

“I save your life and I don’t even get a hair ruffle?”

“Well you should learn not to expect something in return when you try and help other people, yeah?” the older pries, not missing the hint of offense that glimmered on Soobin’s gaze.

“Are you saying that—”

“You helped me because you wanted me to feel gratified to you like every other idiot that would kiss the path you walk on? Yeah pretty much.”

Soobin only glared, fists clenched on the sides of his body. “I was nothing _but_ nice to you the whole night. I’m sorry for expecting at least a _fucking_ high-five from the guy that I apparently wasted my car’s gas on.”

Yeonjun feels guilt creep up his chest, but he didn’t answer. Instead he revved the engine again, and speeded off into the darkness.

The younger scoffed, holding his 7/11 bags up to his chest before muttering a small “Asshole.” into the cold night air. His eyes were staring down on his feet as he squinted—heading to their house’s doorstep. He was just about to open the gate when the noises of Yeonjun’s old motorcycle started resurfacing. 

Eyes wide, Soobin’s jaw subconsciously drops as the boy barely stops _right_ in front of him and raises his hand. Soobin flinches, thinking the guy was about to hit him, but Yeonjun merely scoffs, holding his hand up and looking at Soobin expectantly.

“W-What?”

“You said you wanted a fucking high-five, I don’t want you to think I owe you anything.”

With that, Soobin smiles, reaching up and slapping the boy’s gloved hand with his own. But before Yeonjun could pull it back Soobin quickly holds his wrists and sends the boy an exaggerated wink.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOO THAT WAS THE FIRST CHAPTER! follow me on my twitter (@atomicbeom) and let's scream abt yeonbin together! thank you for reading! 🥺💗


	2. Cold pop tarts and popsicles always taste like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun’s gaze followed Soobin’s, landing on the drink in his hands and the boy’s eyebrows shoot up in realization. The older wordlessly offers to pour him a cup of the pink liquid. 
> 
> Soobin shakes his head gesturing to his empty cup of beer. “Not a fan of hard liquor.” He gestures towards the countertop, right next to where Yeonjun was swinging his legs back and forth. “Can I sit here?”
> 
> Yeonjun shakes his head. “Not a fan of _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 70 KUDOS ON THE FIRST CHAPTER 🥺😭💗💗 are you kidding me this is INSANEEE 🥺🥺💓 im really hoping you like this au so far! i had so much fun writing this chapter but it was such a bitch to code 
> 
> ALSO!!! 🗣️ all characters are age 18 (except for tyunning) so they're technically allowed to drink alcohol 🥴 
> 
> anyways! on with the chapter! 🥺💗

Soobin prided himself in one thing: that he was a nice kid. His parent’s told him that ever since he was a tiny child who could barely lift a finger, he’d always been behaved and well mannered—barely cried and never threw tantrums like any spoiled rich kid would. 

At the blossoming age of five he learnt that he _loves_ compliments—he feels giddy when his great aunts and uncles cooed, pinched his squishy cheeks and praised him for being such a good boy. Soobin was a natural people pleaser—so he grew up with tons of friends by his side, _all_ of which whose names he already forgot by the beginning of junior year. That was the problem with being insanely nice, you tend to connect with tons of people, but only a few _truly_ connect with _you_.

Then came senior year and suddenly he’s one of the most popular boys in school. Not that he ever basked in the glory of popularity though. He just liked being _liked_. He sees himself as a hard worker, balancing being a scholar with being the student council president—and as far as he knew _everyone_ looked up to him for it. 

Everyone but _him_.

Soobin groaned, mind cluttered and appetite long gone so he focuses on his biology notes and tries to cram every detail in the lesson to get his mind off of last night. He already studied beforehand, but he wasn’t in the right headspace to actively participate in his brain’s treacherous endeavors on feeding his knowledge, since his thoughts were invaded by a certain rudely electric blue haired asshole and his stupid little motorbike that probably polluted half of Soobin’s respiratory system—

“Woah _woah_ there! Are you trying to _strangle_ your notes or are you just doing another reviewing method that I’ll never understand?” Beomgyu muses, staring down on Soobin judgingly before tying his bangs up into a little bean sprout on the top of his head.

The older sighed, shaking his head dismissively, straightening out the crumpled paper and staring up at Beomgyu’s hair as he rested his cheek onto the cold surface of their lunch table. The younger was munching on a cookie, typing on his phone –probably talking to Ryujin since apparently the girl is doing a better job at Soobin on being his best friend. (Soobin didn’t mind, Ryujin was cool anyways.)

“Ryu wanted to know what time we’re going to the party tonight.” Beomgyu asks in between bites, bits of mushed cookie flying and splattering on Soobin’s face. The younger only offers him a cheeky grin as he lets out a disgusted cry, wiping his face fiercely.

“Do I _have_ to go? I mean Ryujin’s already there to keep you company.”

“Oh no no don’t you _dare_ try and bail out on me tonight Choi Soobin! You promised.”

“I had a long week Gyu, I just want to go home and sleep–”

“ _–or_ we can make the week _longer_ and _not_ act like old people nearing retirement! Come on Soobin, it’s just a little party… live a little! ” 

The brunette sighs, defeated. Beomgyu was right, (as much as he hated to admit) he needed to let loose a little. He needed to rid his mind of the lingering questions related to Choi Yeonjun and _why_ the older doesn’t seem to tolerate him. He needed to get rid of the annoyance forming in his chest because for the first time in what felt like forever –he was disliked. 

And yeah, maybe Beomgyu was right, it’s _just_ a little party after all.

-

“This is _not_ just a little party.”

“What’d you say Soobs?” Beomgyu practically screamed into his ear, making Soobin flinch and send the boy a sharp glare. The faint smell of alcohol mixed with vomit already lingered through the air –and it was only 9pm. Not less than a hundred teenagers were inside _and_ outside the two floors of Ryujin’s huge house and Soobin winces at the few of them who were throwing toilet paper on top of the trees surrounding their lawn. That is going to be a _bitch_ to clean up.

The two sashay through a sea of bodies by the hallway, half of them drunk, half of them just _extremely_ bad at dancing. Beomgyu holds Soobin’s wrist rather tightly as if the older boy was about to bolt out of the scene –which he probably _will_ do after the fifth stranger he sees vomiting on the house’s expensive carpet.

“Beomgyu! Soobin! I’m glad you can make it!” Ryujin leans in to hug them tightly, surprisingly sober. “I was afraid the two of you would chicken out.”

“And miss out on Jisung downing two bottles of hard liquor in one minute? Never!”

“I don’t know about you Gyu, but I didn’t come here to witness another alcohol poisoning incident.” Soobin grumbles, stealing the red cup from Ryujin’s hands and taking a small sip. And regret starts to flood in as he tastes.

“Ew –what even _is_ this?”

“It’s strawberry milk with a little bit of rum— _on the rocks._ ” The girl winks snatching her cup back, taking a long swig of the disgusting contraption and lighting up as he remembered something. “Ohmygod _Gyu_ –I forgot I have the most _wicked_ nerf gun set back in the basement. Let’s fill it with actual bullets and shoot Hoseokie oppa with it!”

Ryujin pulls Beomgyu away, into the sea of crowd and the boy looks at Soobin dead in the eye, as if telepathically saying _You try to leave and you’re dead to me._ A shiver runs up the older’s spine as he nods wordlessly, watching his friends head to the basement where they’re going to get nerf guns (hopefully with _normal_ ammo) to prank Ryujin’s older brother again.

That’s probably one of the reasons why Ryujin holds the _best_ parties in school –because her house is just a block away from the college dormitory rooms and his older brother, Hoseok’s frat house is right in front of it. So when their parents aren’t home it’s just a night full of booze, strobe lights, and shitty hiphop tracks blasting on overused speakers (read: the siblings’ _Party Jam_ ).

Soobin merely sighs, contemplating whether or not he should leave Beomgyu alone without a wingman (he already has Ryujin as a wingwoman so he didn’t really know _why_ he was here), but he figured his night was already wasted and he might as well get free beer out of it. 

“Soobinie! Mr. President! Join us!” a voice already called out. Soobin turned to see a small girl and a group of other familiar students waving frantically at him and judging by the nickname she used –he should probably know the girl’s name. He _doesn’t_. A momentary tinge of guilt pinched his chest with realization that these kids probably think he _knows_ them, but he quickly brushed it off and smiled widely, heading towards the group of students and easily making conversation.

-

“Let me just get another drink.” Soobin smiles politely, earning encouraging nods from the _fifth_ group he hung out with for tonight. He already forgot their names the second he stepped out of their little circle but he’s had a long night so who could blame him? He had no idea where the _hell_ Beomgyu was but his feet are killing him. He hated the fact that they were listening to Chris Brown for about three hours now and he’s already a little out of it since his eighth red cup (he was a lightweight, _sue_ him). 

More than a little dazed and dizzy, Soobin walks past the bar (The Jungs had a _fucking_ bar inside their house!) and heads towards what he _thinks_ is the kitchen because suddenly he’s craving pop tarts and cookie dough and he figures – _meh, why not?_ It’s a free country after all.

Much to the boy’s surprise, the kitchen was empty. He lets out a little _yippee!_ before heading straight for the fridge. 

“Pop tarts pop tarts pop tarts-” Soobin begins to hum, raiding the fridge and frowning as there were no pop tarts in sight. He whines. “I need my pop tarts!”

He closes the fridge door and yelps as he meets familiar foxy eyes staring back at him. It was _him_. Soobin blinked, suddenly sobering up as he marveled at Yeonjun with wide eyes. 

The boy was sitting smugly on the countertop, clad in a white shirt and denim jacket, with black skinny jeans and boots. His look was so casual, yet with his hair brushed up and jacket sleeves rolled up to his forearms –Soobin can’t help but revel in the unknown force the blue haired boy emitted. Soobin had met his fair share of good looking people, but Choi Yeonjun was different. It was as if he couldn’t look away –he didn’t _want_ to look away.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Soobin finally asks, forcing himself to pry his eyes away from ogling at Yeonjun.

“I’m sorry? Do I need to ask for your permission first to get some booze, Golden Boy?” the other replies tauntingly.

“Of course not!”

“Then mind your own business.” 

“Well _someone_ seems to have had their cereal pissed on this morning.” The taller rolls his eyes, opening a few cupboards because not even Choi Yeonjun can stop him from finding his pop tarts. 

He hears Yeonjun scoff, “Well if you _really_ must know –the swimming team begged me to go so they won’t get scolded by our coach for being hungover tomorrow on practice. Me, being the _ever-so-supportive_ team captain I am, said yes and offered to give them rides back home.”

Soobin finds himself giggling at Yeonjun who only offered a lazy smile. He catches sight of a half empty bottle of gin next to the boy and hiccups as he realizes that Yeonjun was drinking alone. He drank _half_ a bottle of lukewarm gin. Maybe that’s why he’s been a little more talkative than usual.

Yeonjun’s gaze followed Soobin’s, landing on the drink in his hands and the boy’s eyebrows shoot up in realization. The older wordlessly offers to pour him a cup of the pink liquid. 

Soobin shakes his head gesturing to his empty cup of beer. “Not a fan of hard liquor.” He gestures towards the countertop, right next to where Yeonjun was swinging his legs back and forth. “Can I sit here?”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “Not a fan of _you_.”

“Oh _hardy har har_ that’s just clever, Choi. Come on man, cut me some slack, my legs are _killing_ me.” the taller rolls his eyes, mounting on top of the counter and sitting next to the blue haired boy. There wasn’t much space between them, their pinkies brushing together ever so lightly that Soobin even considered holding his breath –but it was surprisingly comfortable. Silence always seemed comfortable when Soobin was with Yeonjun.

“You can literally take any seat that isn’t next to me you know.”

“But I like subtle body heat.” Soobin pouts out of habit, not missing how Yeonjun looks away and takes a long swig of his bottle of gin.

“Your fault for wearing a thin shirt.” 

“ _Hey!_ This shirt is Gucci, thank you very much –and also Jungkook hyung kinda barfed on my bomber jacket so I threw it out.” he shivers, recollecting the fresh memory of the arts major hugging him from behind (like he always did because apparently Hoseok’s frat-mate gets very affectionate when piss drunk) and downright vomiting on his back.

“Huge bummer.” 

“Mhm.”

Not even a second of silence follows until Yeonjun blubbers up another string of words.

“Hey –you were looking for pop tarts earlier right? Even made a little song, you loser.”

Soobin’s ears go red and he opens his mouth to defend himself and save at least a _fraction_ of his dignity but he immediately shuts up once he sees the blue haired boy hand him a plate of pop tarts. Before Soobin could say anything—

“You can’t use the microwave anymore because Jungkook hyung threw it into the swimming pool so I hope you like them cold.” 

“I don’t mind.” the younger answers, taking the plate and suddenly feeling small. Yeonjun was actually being _nice_ and perhaps it was the alcohol in his system but _still_ , it was better than the prideful grumpy mess he had to deal with yesterday. 

His heart drops when Yeonjun stands up, prompting to _leave_ and Soobin thinks —oh, maybe that was the limit of their conversation. He tries not to take notice of the trace of disappointment lingering in his chest. As much as he hated to admit it, Soobin actually _liked_ Yeonjun’s company –in a weird way. Well –tolerated it but still. 

Instead of heading towards the door, Yeonjun stops in front of the freezer and pulls it open, rummages through it a little bit and returns to the counter where Soobin was nibbling on his cold pop tart, wide eyed and confused. Yeonjun was holding two popsicle treats in front of him, looking up at Soobin expectantly. 

_“What?”_

The older rolls his eyes. “And here I thought you were the smartest kid in school. Pick a color, Golden Boy _jeez_!” 

“Oh… OH!” 

Soobin blushes, muttering a quick thank you and taking the red one, while Yeonjun settles with the electric blue popsicle treat. He sits down on the floor facing the other and leans on the kitchen island’s marble, taking a long sip of his gin bottle then biting harshly on his ice pop. Soobin has to bite down the urge to voice out his discomfort and that Yeonjun’s teeth were practically _screaming_ for help. 

Instead he laughs, “Doesn’t this feel like _deja vu_ to you?” 

The older looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Hm?” 

Soobin points to their popsicles, stifling a tiny giggle (which he should probably stop doing in front of Yeonjun). “Red and blue. Just like last night.” 

Yeonjun’s features morph into a rather comical ‘o’ shape, eyes crinkling up as he smiles and _oh my god_ Choi Yeonjun had the prettiest smile Soobin’s ever seen. The younger was awestruck, his face heating up at the sight of Yeonjun laughing. It was light and higher than what he expected but it was so soothing and contagious and- 

Fuck, shut up Soobin. 

“Red and blue make purple you mean?” the other pries, mocking him with a teasing grin. 

He can’t help but groan, covering his face “Can we _not_ talk about that please, it’s embarrassing.” 

“No promises, Golden Boy.” 

They keep the friendly banter going and talk about the most mundane things like aliens, politics, milk or cereal, murder mysteries, - _“If I get murdered I want you to take my baby Rosita.” - “The motorbike?” – “Shh.. She doesn’t know that she’s adopted!”_ \- Newton’s laws of motion - _“So like –an apple just went boink on his head and suddenly he can make his own laws? White privilege, I think.”_ \- and just got comfortable with each other’s presence. Yeonjun seemed a little more sober, despite having finished the whole bottle of gin –and Soobin took note of every single detail coming out of the older boy’s lips like it was his lifeline. 

“Soobinie! There you are!” a voice echoes and both the boys turn to see Hoseok waving at them, holding a few red cups and a bag of pingpong balls. “I see you’re hanging out with Yeonjun! That’s _interesting_.” 

Hoseok sends Yeonjun a knowing glint and the younger merely splutters, pushing himself up the tiled floor and dusting his pants, ridding it of any pop tart crumbs (courtesy of Soobin being a messy eater). Soobin momentarily wonders how the two seem to know each other. 

“Not to ruin-” Hoseok gestures in between them “-whatever _this_ is. But we’re just about to play hard liquor pong-” “ _Great_ name.” “-I know. Anyways, we’re just about to play and we’re kinda short on players so? What do you say guys?” 

Yeonjun turned his head to meet Soobin’s eyes, as if asking for permission and Soobin’s voice gets caught in his throat. Yeonjun’s gaze was soft, gentle –and mildly comforting. He nods meekly, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart and convincing himself that the older was only a few drinks away for shitface drunk, so maybe the boy’s apparent disliking on him was put on a temporary hiatus. 

“Yeah sure.” 

As they walked towards the gaming room where the pingpong table was set up, Soobin blinks when he feels Yeonjun whisper to his ear. 

“I bet you’ll pass out after playing with our team.” 

The younger only scoffs, a playful –yet eerily competitive glint in his eyes. It was going to be a _long_ night. 

“Oh you are _so_ on, Choi.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment or dm me on my twitter (@atomicbeom) for your opinions about this chapter! thank you for reading! 🥺🥺


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